The Special Herondale
by xxmadworldredemptionxx
Summary: AU/AH: Jace loved his wife. He loved his daughter even more so, even if she was 'special' in a way his own parents might never be able to accept. CLACE ONE-SHOT [T]


_**A/N:** Hello lovelies. Here's another one-shot reboot previously posted under my old account xxmadworldreveriexx. It was requested by an old reader (whose pen name I can't seem to remember, so sorry about that!) Anyway, hope you guys will enjoy this one. Written from Jace's POV._

 _ **Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the original TMI series and characters. Any familiar quotes that you recognise from the TMI books should, of course, be attributed to the ingenuity of Cassie. However, the plot lines and other character developments etc. in this story belongs to me,**_ _ **xxmadworldredemptionxx**_ _ **. Please do not copy, reproduce, translate, or repost these stories elsewhere without my permission.**_

* * *

 **THE SPECIAL HERONDALE**

* * *

 _"There's nothing more to say. I'm tired, Jace—so tired. If you were me, you would be, too…"_ Her words echoed in my mind over and over again.

I was sitting on our couch in the living room, my head buried in my hands. I would lift my head occasionally to glance at the door—not that that did anything. As soon as Clary had said those words, she'd walked into our bedroom and locked the door behind her. She'd even taken the spare key with her, just to make sure that I wouldn't be able to open the door. I could have tried picking the lock, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I could barely even call out her name to stop her. I was pathetic.

We didn't fight often—bantered, yes, but never actually fought. We'd never had a reason to, not until a few weeks ago when my mother started to push a massive wedge in between us. To be fair, she had never approved of my relationship with Clary—my dad was pretty much on the same side with her where Clary and I stood—so it went without saying that our marriage lacked all the blessings we'd hoped for from my parents.

But despite everything, we did it anyway.

Seven years ago, when we were both 24, we held a small wedding ceremony attended by our family and closest friends—sans my parents, who couldn't be bothered to show up. It'd hurt, knowing that my parents didn't care enough for my happiness, but I had been determined to fight for myself—and for Clary. It was my turn to be selfish for once.

I had grown up doing everything my mom and dad wanted me to without complaint. They had wanted me to become the star quarterback of the football team in high school. _I did_. They had wanted me to study business so I could one day take over my dad's company. _I did._ They had wanted me to date Aline Penhallow, daughter of my dad's biggest partner. And _I did_ , despite how much I didn't actually like her…that was, until I met Clary.

When I first bumped into the feisty redhead (literally), my whole world was thrown off balance. She changed everything even before I knew her name. She had little care for me at first and would often scowl at me when we ran into each other—which was often and deliberate on my part; I had to admit. I had been so irrevocably smitten by Clary and had wanted—no, _needed_ —to know her. So I'd kept up with my pursuit.

A few short weeks later, after Clary had finally deigned to let me buy her coffee and we'd talked, I'd ended things with Aline. My parents had been furious with my decision—they still _were_ —but for the first time, I hadn't cared about what they thought. I was my own person, and it was time that I started living for myself. I finally worked up the courage to ask Clary to be my girlfriend several days later, and though she was somewhat wary of me, she'd agreed. And things had escalated pretty quickly from there.

That didn't mean to say that we had fallen into bed the next minute and couldn't keep our hands off of each other—no, until we finally became husband and wife, our relationship had remained completely chaste, and I didn't mind it one bit. I spent my time learning everything about Clary; she had even introduced me to her parents, Jocelyn and Valentine Morgenstern, who, bless their heart, welcomed me with open arms. They were everything my parents weren't: attentive, loving, and nurturing. They became the parents I never had growing up. They loved me—not because I was rich and could potentially save them from the rut they were living in—but because they were genuinely good people who trusted me with their daughter. Contrary to what my parents thought on numerous occasions, the Morgensterns had never asked me for anything, save for the promise to take good care of their daughter.

But now… Now I feared that their daughter hated me.

Years of opposition from my parents—my mother's cruel, vicious words, which I knew Clary fell victim to every spare minute I left them alone—had damaged her spirit. I remembered the times we would return to our apartment after a cold dinner session at my parents' mansion, and Clary would always look upset. We would sit in our car in complete silence, and when Clary finally did speak, she would ask me the same question every damned time: "Why did you choose me?"

She would barely give me the chance to answer her before she'd go on to list all the things she thought made her unworthy, _undeserving_ of me, and it would break my heart to listen to her depreciate herself. Lord, if only she believed me…then she would realize that _I_ was the one who didn't deserve her. If anything, she was too good for me.

I had never thought that I would hate my mother for trying to come in between us, but I did. She'd planted the seed of doubt in Clary, and now the time for harvesting was near. My wife wanted to leave me, and it was all my mother's fault. Why couldn't she have left us alone? Why couldn't she just stop meddling for once and let us be happy?

"Daddy…" The small, sweet voice made my head turn. My little girl was hovering at the doorway of her bedroom, looking scared and unsure of herself. She was a beautiful mini version of Clary: red, curly hair, bright emerald green eyes flecked with my gold coloring, and she was small…like a little pixie.

"Come here, princess," I reached for her, and though she was hesitant, she eventually crossed the distance between us and went into my arms. I practically crushed her to my chest; in spite of myself, I felt comforted by the scent of her strawberry shampoo—kind of like her mother's, but different. My eyes felt sore, and I didn't realize until too late that I was crying, my face wet with tears.

"I'm sorry, baby," I choked on my words as I kissed her hair. She didn't say anything but allowed me to continue holding her. "I'm sorry you had to hear me and Mommy fighting. I'm sorry that all of this is happening. I'm just…God, I'm so sorry."

Adalyn stiffened, and the small act made my heart shatter. Was my little girl afraid of me? Did she hate me? "Are you going to leave me and Mommy?" she asked, and I felt myself break even more, the fissures of my soul splintering into long, jagged cracks.

"Now, why would you say that?" I asked her, trying to put on a calm façade. I couldn't let her see me weak. What good was I as a man—as a _father_ —if couldn't be strong for my daughter?

"Nana"—I sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of my mother—"She doesn't like me or Mommy. She told me. She said I was a mistake. That I should've never been born."

"Adie…" _Please stop_ , I wanted to tell her.

"She said that you were going to leave me and Mommy—and marry Auntie Aline…then you'll have other babies with her and you won't love me anymore," she continued, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You won't even remember me…you would be too busy with your new family—"

" _Adalyn Claire Herondale_ ," I scolded her. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, trying to stifle her sobs. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I knew my mother was tenacious—she never hesitated when it came to spewing hateful barbs at Clary—but to say such things to a four-year-old? Adie was her granddaughter, for God's sake!

I was seething with absolute rage at my mother. She had crossed the line this time—and I wasn't going to keep quiet about it anymore.

Adie released a gut-wrenching sob. "Sweetheart," my voice softened, "I would never leave you and Mommy— _ever_. I love you both too much. You are my heart. Without you, I…I'm nothing. I don't want anyone else except for you two. Please believe me."

Adie shook her head and looked down, staring at her arm—or lack thereof. Her right limb ended where an elbow was supposed to be, marking the only form of imperfection that existed in my little girl. Even then, I saw her as nothing short of perfect. She was mine and Clary's—that was all that ever mattered to me. I didn't care that she was born with a birth defect…she was _mine_.

When Clary and I first found out about Adie's condition during one of her ultrasound scans, we were given a choice: to terminate the pregnancy or to go on with it. I had seen the heartbreak in Clary's eyes, the both us realizing that our child's birth defect would only give my parents another reason to find fault with my wife—and deep down, I had sensed that my parents would never fully accept my daughter as one of their own—but I didn't _care_.

When Clary first told me the news that she was pregnant, my heart had instantly swelled with love for my unborn child. I could never—not on my damn conscience—be able to live with myself if I'd _killed_ our baby because of one tiny physical imperfection. There was no argument—Clary having thankfully agreed with me—so we kept our special little baby, promising to shower her with every ounce of our love so that she would never have to feel inadequate.

But of course, Adie knew that she wasn't like other kids—that she was different. And the moment she realized what her problem was, she struggled trying to understand _why_. Why was she born that way? Why couldn't she be like other children?

I had seen my wife cry too many times over this, too, but never because she hated Adie. She hated _herself_. She blamed herself for our daughter's condition—as if it was something either of us could have controlled.

Clary had told me once that she could tolerate my mother's hatred towards her, but not when it came to our daughter. She hated that my mother's first reaction towards seeing Adalyn was disgust and resentment. I hated it, too. Just the mere _thought_ of my mother's grimace—

Now I was livid.

"Daddy," Adalyn's voice was like a soothing balm, assuaging my anger, "I'm sorry."

 _Sorry?_ "For what, baby girl?" I asked her, frowning at the look of intense sadness on her face. _No child should have to be this sad_ , I couldn't help but think. _Least of all my own child. My perfect daughter._

"You and Mommy are fighting because of me. Nana hates Mommy because of me," she said in a small voice.

 _Lord, can my heart break anymore than it already has?_

"None of this is happening because of you, Adie. And you should stop listening to Nana. She's a bad woman for lying to you," I told her as I stroked her cheek. "You are perfect, sweetheart. Anyone who can't see that is blind."

Adie sniffled. "I want to sleep with you and Mommy…"

I swallowed and glanced at the locked bedroom door—only now, it wasn't closed anymore. I could see Clary peering at us through the small crack of the door, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Keeping my eyes focused on my wife, I lifted my daughter into my arms and walked towards her. Thankfully, she didn't slam the door closed on my face—but then again, I suppose the huge reason for that was because I was carrying Adie in my arms.

"Can we come in?" I asked Clary quietly. She dropped my gaze only for a moment to look at our daughter, who was staring at her with an almost pleading look. "Please," I added. _For Adie's sake._

Clary didn't say a word, only opened the door wider to let us into the room. I immediately rushed inside before she could change her mind, and gently set our daughter down, right in the middle of our bed. Clary was now standing with her back against the closed door, looking at us, looking…exhausted.

"Come here, Mommy," Adie begged, reaching for Clary with her left arm—the one that looked complete, _normal_.

A look of sadness flashed across Clary's face before she relented, walking over to the other side of the bed that had been left vacant for her. Without a word, she laid down, curled her body around Adie's, then hugged her. It was _surreal_ ; I felt as if I was seeing double. I wondered if Adie would look exactly like her mother when she grew up. She would be one lucky, beautiful girl, that was for sure.

"Come here, Daddy," Adie glanced at me from over her shoulder, as if noticing my hesitation. Like her mother, I could never say no to my little girl, so I complied, lying down on her other side and wrapping my arms around her.

Adie pulled my hand and let it rest on Clary's waist, wanting to make sure that I was holding her mother as well. Clary gasped at my touch, but didn't shove me away from her. I stroked her back to reassure her, then leaned over our daughter, pressing a chaste kiss to my wife's forehead.

"I love you, Clary."

Still, she said nothing, instead choosing to snuggle closer to our daughter. I had to admit, it hurt. I didn't know whether it meant that Clary was rejecting me and putting up with me only for our daughter's sake. I didn't know if it meant that she was _giving up_. God, what was I supposed to do without her? Did she really hate me? Had my mother really pushed her too much, that she didn't think I was worth fighting for anymore?

I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to force my tears back. I listened to Adie's breathing as it evened out, indicating that my little girl had finally given in to sleep. _Good,_ I thought. _Let her rest._ With the long day we had, I hoped that she would at least get a good night's sleep.

"Jace, are you awake?" Clary's raspy voice caused my eyelids to flutter open. Her eyes widened a little at the movement, probably not expecting me to actually still be awake. Or maybe she had thought that I would ignore her.

Even though it was obvious, I replied, "I am."

Clary let out a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said, a little bitterly. Realizing how it might have sounded to Clary, I quickly added, "If anything, I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have let this go on so long— _my mother_ , I mean," I clarified, noticing the wounded look in her eyes. She'd probably thought I meant that I shouldn't have let our relationship go so far. "I don't regret anything with you, Clary. Not for marrying you. Not for Adie. The only thing I regret is for not standing up to my mother enough. She'd gone too far this time—"

"She's right you know," Clary interrupted, sounding weary. "If you had married Aline, your children would have turned out perfect…"

The thought of marrying someone else other than Clary, of another woman mothering my children other than Clary, nauseated me. I really felt like I was going to be sick.

"I don't want Aline," I said through harsh breaths. "I want you."

"Your parents threatened to cut you off from your inheritance, Jace," she told me, as if I didn't know it already. "Do you realize what's at stake here? Are you telling me that you would rather lose your _family_ , your entire _legacy_ —which you've worked so hard for—just for me and Adie?"

"Do you realize how ridiculous your question is?" I whisper-yelled at her, all too conscious of our daughter sleeping in between us. "You and Adie _are_ my family. I'd have to be insane to sacrifice the two of you over some _legacy_ ," I spat out the word with distaste.

"Aline can give you a perfect family. I can't give you anymore children, remember?" Clary's chest heaved as she fought to control herself from sobbing.

 _Oh, how I remember._

I remembered all too well.

With all the complications that took place during Adie's birth, the doctors had told us that Clary could never be pregnant again. Adie was our one and only chance.

"Do you remember the day Adie was born?" I asked as I caressed her cheek. Clary blinked as she stared at me, seemingly at a loss for words. "I was so scared that I was going to lose you both. And after the delivery, I was so, _so_ grateful when the doctor told me that my wife and baby were going to be okay. Do you remember how I refused to let you both out of my sight?" A tear fell down Clary's cheek as she nodded. "I thank God every day for the two of you. For giving me a beautiful family. You're everything I ever wanted and more. I don't want anything else."

"But your mom…"

"I don't care about my mom," I scowled though deep down, it really _killed_ me to utter such a thing. I was raised first and foremost to respect my parents and to honor them. To suddenly go against every part of that teaching tore at me. God forbid, if Adie ever turned her back on me and Clary when she grew up, I would be heartbroken beyond repair. Which was exactly why I vowed that I was never going to do to her what my parents did to me: to push my only child away.

"If my mom really loves me, then she should have tried to accept you and Adie a long time ago. She shouldn't be pushing our family apart, trying to break us. She shouldn't be encouraging me to be unfaithful towards you and coerce me into having a baby with another woman—a woman I _don't_ love. And my dad shouldn't have just stood by and let her do all those things. He should have stopped her."

"I…"

"You've asked me why I chose to be with you and my answer still stands to this day. Now's my turn to ask you, Clary. Why did _you_ choose me? Is it because of my _wealth_?" I threw my mother's accusation at her, not because I believed it, but because I wanted her to react. "Am I just an easy target for you?"

I recognized the spark of anger that lit her emerald green eyes—a spark that had been slowly fading because of my mother's tampering. "I don't care about your money. I've never cared about that, Jace," she said through gritted teeth.

I smiled, loving the fact that I had managed to get a rise out of her. This was the girl I had fallen in love with, who wasn't afraid to talk back, who was so decidedly confident in herself. I couldn't believe that I had never noticed it before—of how deeply my mother's bullying had affected Clary's confidence as a woman. She would never touch my wife again—not while I could help it.

"Then why?" I prodded her. "Is it because of my astonishingly good looks?" I couldn't resist teasing her, as inappropriate as the moment was.

Clary narrowed her eyes at me. "Do I look like a superficial bimbo to you?"

I smirked. "Tell me why."

Clary faltered for a second as her eyes roamed my face, searching… Searching for something I didn't know. It puzzled me. As far as I was concerned, I was an open book when it came to Clary. I'd never felt the need to hide how I felt about her _from_ her. I never wanted her to doubt me. I wanted to be the man whom she could trust with her whole heart, so I'd never hesitated to lay out all my emotions on a figurative table—but only for her.

When our gazes finally reconnected, I was taken aback by the amount of emotion I saw in Clary's. She looked to be on the verge of crying again, but this time, it wasn't fueled by anger or despair or fatigue. Quite the opposite, actually. She looked…relieved.

"Tell me why," I repeated, refusing to let it go.

"Because of this," she said in a low whisper—then unexpectedly, _scoffed_ as if changing her mind. "Because you, Jace Herondale, are the most persistent man I've ever met. You're stubborn, cocky and pig-headed—"

"Are you professing your love for me by insulting me?"

"—And unbelievably sweet and gentle when you want to be. You have such a good heart," she said. "I didn't think it was possible to love you anymore than I already have until I saw you with our daughter. I was scared that you would hate her, but you proved me wrong. You're a good man and an even more wonderful father."

I reached for Clary's hand and lifted it to my face. Closing my eyes, I guided her fingertips over my cheek and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Then don't give up on us. Don't tell me to."

Adie shifted for the first time since she had fallen asleep and the two of us fell silent, our eyes following her movements. She stirred, but didn't wake. We shared a smile at our little girl. If there was one thing we both could agree on, it was Adie. Come hell or high water, we would do everything for her. And her journey had barely even begun…

"I won't," Clary's answer—strong and void of question—made me smile. "I only have one condition."

"What is it?" Without realizing it, my head had inched closer to Clary's, our foreheads touching, our breaths sharing.

"That we keep your parents away from Adie. They're toxic, Jace. I don't want her growing up in such a negative environment. They don't even consider her their granddaughter… It's only fair that we save her the trouble of sitting through those horrendous dinners—"

"Done."

"What?"

"It's done," I told her. "And to be fair to the both of you, I won't see my parents anymore. I'm turning in my resignation at Herondale Inc. Monday morning. I'll look for a new job. Hell, if you want to move away from New York, we'll do it. I want us to have a fresh start. We deserve it."

"No."

"No?" I looked at Clary, shocked. "But you said—"

"I said to keep your parents away from _Adie_. I didn't mean that _you_ should cut off your ties with them," she clarified, still to my bafflement. "I know that your parents' aren't my biggest fans—neither am I a fan of them," Clary continued to explain, "But they're still your _parents_. No matter how horrible they are to me, or to Adie, we can't change the fact that they were the ones who raised you. You can't forget that, Jace."

I was still staring at her, but this time, it was with awe. "You're an amazing woman, you know that?" I told her. "I wish my mother and father could see that. I wish…"

"Well, maybe someday they will," she cut me off. "Maybe one day God will open their hearts just enough for them to accept me and Adie into your family. But for now, having you is enough for the both of us."

"And the both of you will always be enough for me." I closed my eyes and touched my forehead to hers. "I still think a little payback is in order though," I spoke up after a while.

"Jace—" Clary's voice had taken on a scolding tone.

"No, Clary, hear me out. I think getting off my parents' grid for a while would do them some good. You know, just to make them sweat a little bit."

"Jace…"

"Come on, Clary," I whined. "If not, think of it as this… Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?" I was basically talking out of my ass for this one, and Clary knew it.

She rolled her eyes and huffed out an annoyed "Sure, it does".

"I am not abandoning my parents. I'm simply giving them space and time to reflect on what they've done," I tried to justify. "And…" She gave me a stern look, so I quickly gripped her hand in mine to reassure her that I was _not_ , in fact, making a fool out of myself. "I really need to give myself a chance to grow up and to stop relying on my parents. I want to learn how to be a better, independent man for our family."

"It's amazing how stubborn you can be, Jace Herondale," Clary said with a deadpan expression. "But if that's what you really want—to spread your wings and fly out of your proverbial nest—then I won't stop you. I just hope you know that it's not going to be easy."

"You make it sound as if I've announced that I'm joining the circus," I joked. "Relax, Clary. I think I'll do just fine outside of Dad's company. After all, I did graduate from Columbia Business School as summa cum laude on my own merits, didn't I?"

"Debatable," she muttered. "It's possible you charmed your way through that one."

"Like how I charmed _you_?" I teased her. "My beautiful wife…"

Clary shook her head as she let out a quiet laugh. Her cheeks were bright pink against the stark paleness of her skin, betraying her blush. _Heaven help me—_ the things that single _blush_ could do to me, even after all these years. And Clary was just so close…

My eyes darted down to her mouth as hers did the same. Finally, I leaned forward and claimed her lips with mine, claiming what has _always_ been mine. She tasted so sweet…divine. Have I ever mentioned how much I loved my wife?

When I tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled away, breathing heavily.

"I want you," I told her, as a matter-of-factly.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I scrunched my eyebrows at her. "Do we really need to use protection?"

This time, I was met with my wife's fiery glare. "Our daughter, Jace!" she growled, shocking me out of my desire-induced stupor.

My eyes widened as my face flushed at the realization of what I had almost tried to initiate—while our daughter was lying in bed in between us, no less! I had never felt more embarrassed and stupid. Thank God at least one of us had their heads on straight!

"Shit," I muttered.

"Language," Clary chided. "But yes, _that_ just about sums it up." My wife shook her head. "Honestly, Jace. I know we've had a long day, but _this_ is unforgivable."

"I'm going to take a cold shower."

"So you should."

"I'll be right back." I quickly rolled off the bed and tried to brisk-walk towards our en suite bathroom. It was going to be a long night, but not in the way I had initially thought.

I paused just before I shut the bathroom door behind me, looking over at my wife and daughter. Clary was stroking Adie's hair and smiling, looking far more peaceful and happy than I had seen her in a long time. God, she was beautiful. And I loved her more than words can describe.

Clary and Adalyn were everything I had ever wanted. And one way or another, I was going to make my parents see exactly why they belonged in our family.

* * *

 ** _A/N: In my mind, Jace and Clary eventually find a way to soften the Herondales' hearts and they come to accept Clary and Adie into their family. I don't think it's a far-fetched notion. It won't happen overnight, obviously, but I think it would happen because the Herondales would come to realize that family is far more important than their pride. Or perhaps I'm just an idealist? Family is, and has always been, important to me, so that's just my take... what do you guys think? :D_**

 ** _And if you've read my other one-shots, you'll know how much I love writing about Clary and Jace as a married couple. (And obviously I love the idea of Clace babies too). If you have any suggestions/requests for fluffy Clace stuff, let me know in your reviews._**

 ** _If you've enjoyed reading any of the stuff I've posted so far, do check out the reboot of my multi-chapter story Redemption. That's one story I've been working on since 2014, and I would welcome any feedback you guys have on it :) Until next time, xoxo!_**


End file.
